“I remember meeting you at the grocer’s. You have a distinctive voice, ma’am. Please allow me to introduce you to Lord Knightsbridge, and to my sister, Miss Collins.”
“Your sister! How wonderful to have family nearby.”
“If only she could be closer, but I am happy regardless.”
“Well, Mrs. Warton mentioned visiting you, and I thought how wonderful it would be to introduce you to more of our parish. Might I send you an invitation to tea?”
“I would love that.”
“Then I will not keep you. It was a pleasure meeting you both, Lord Knightsbridge and Miss Collins.”
And with a little bobbing nod of her head, she turned and left the coffee house.
But after she’d gone, Audrey’s smile faded.
“Is something wrong?” Robert asked.
“I hope her invitation is for after Molly is well. I don’t wish to inconvenience Mrs. Edgeworth by making her have to take care of me.”
Miss Collins looked troubled, and Robert was glad she didn’t speak and reveal that to Audrey.
“It will work out,” he insisted. “I will go with you if Molly cannot.”
But it was the wrong thing to say.
“I do not want people to feel beholden on my behalf,” she said, frowning. “Soon they will all treat me like an invalid, if I cannot be seen to stand on my own.”
“Maybe you’re expecting too much of yourself,” Miss Collins said at last.
Robert grimaced, even as Audrey reddened.
“I expect much of myself, Blythe,” she said coolly. “If I didn’t, I would still be sitting with a blanket on my lap in the corner Father put me in.”
“I didn’t mean . . .” Miss Collins trailed off.
Robert thought that she did mean it, but hadn’t quite understood how it would hurt Audrey.
“I think it’s time to go home,” Audrey said, carefully placing her napkin beside her coffee cup.
Chapter 15
Audrey was very disappointed in herself during the short carriage ride home. Robert rode his horse beside them, and she wondered if her pique had driven even amiable Robert to seek some time away from her.
She was starting a new chapter in her life, and her plan had always been to leave the old one behind. Molly’s illness had made her realize how much she really depended on people. To hear Blythe’s belief that Audrey should not expect so much of herself? It was frustrating and sad and—
Oh, she didn’t know what. She didn’t want to be so dependent, had thought the freedom of living in her own home would change everything. But that couldn’t happen, could it? Not really—not ever.
And now she was depending on Robert as much as she’d ever depended on Molly, and because his kisses and praises flattered her, she’d thought it was different. But was it?
Yet . . . she was a woman, and females were powerless in the world—except for Queen Victoria. How could she expect herself to be different, and how could she expect Blythe to be different?
“We’re almost home,” Blythe said softly. “Rose Cottage looks pretty up on the hill.”
Home. And Audrey would do well to remember and be grateful.
“Thank you, Blythe. I want to apologize for snapping at you. You were trying to make me feel better, and I took out all my frustrations on you. My limitations are not your fault.”
“That is kind of you.”
For a moment, Audrey thought Blythe would say more, but she didn’t, and soon Audrey could feel the sway as the carriage rounded the drive.
When the door opened, Blythe said, “Good day, Mr. Sanford.”
Mr. Sanford? Audrey thought. Why hadn’t Francis met them? “Mr. Sanford, is something wrong? Has Molly relapsed?”
Audrey felt herself the center of attention, knowing that Blythe stared at her, and perhaps Mr. Sanford and Robert, too.
“No, ma’am,” Mr. Sanford said in his rumbling voice. “My pardon if I startled ye, but I just spotted a flock of pheasant down near the pond. Lord Knightsbridge had asked about the shootin’ hereabouts, and I thought he’d like to give them a go.”
Audrey felt the tension of the morning drain out of her, leaving her exhausted and a bit embarrassed. “Oh, of course. Robert, you should do that. You are a guest here, after all. And you can tell me how good the hunting conditions are.”
“Our brother might like to know that,” Blythe suggested.
Audrey smiled at her, feeling forgiven.
“Mrs. Blake,” Mr. Sanford said, “why do ye not join his lordship? Both of ye ladies. Molly tells me wife ye haven’t had yer normal stroll. She worries about ye. And she packed a picnic meal.”
Who worries about me—Molly or your wife? Audrey almost said aloud. His invitation was very strange—including the picnic meal. She told herself not to be suspicious—maybe the groundskeeper was simply trying to be more friendly.
“I will give it some thought, Mr. Sanford. Lord Knightsbridge, might I speak to you in private?”
“I’m going to my room to rest before luncheon,” Blythe said. “Shall I take your new bonnet inside?”
“Thank you,” Audrey said, handing over the box.
Robert took her arm and led her away from the carriage, which she could hear jingling as the Collins coachman drove it away.
“Is something wrong?” Robert asked quietly.
“I find it . . . peculiar that today Mr. Sanford wants me to accompany you shooting, and yesterday, Blythe thought he was following us about the garden. His kindness has always seemed grudging. So this invitation makes me feel that he wants me away from the house.”
“Wait—you thought he was following you?”
“Blythe said he was.”
“He could have been concerned about your progress around the estate. Neither you nor your sister knows the grounds.”
“We would hardly hike in any wooded terrain,” she said dryly. “I have simply begun to feel that their poor behavior as servants is more of a distraction to hide something else, something important enough to risk being let go, rather than just being directed personally at me. Would you do me the favor of letting him guide you this afternoon?”
“Of course. But if he wants you away from the house, there could be something going on right now.”
“I don’t get that feeling, do you? Or is there something in his expression I can’t see?”
“No. He did allow Miss Collins to leave without looking too worried.”
“Then you go with him, and I’ll discover if something’s going on inside.” She could sense his hesitation. “Robert, I will be fine. I do not fear anyone means me harm.”
“Very well.” He raised his voice. “Sanford? Do you have a gun I can use?”
“Aye, milord.”
“Then go prepare it, and after I escort Mrs. Blake to the house, I will return.”
At the door, she insisted he go back. “I’m fine within, Robert.”
“This isn’t going to take long,” he insisted.
“You’re such a crack shot, you’ll have all our pheasants killed in no time?”
“Audrey—”
“Just go,” she said softly, patting his arm before he released hers.
She felt him kiss her hand.
“Take care,” he warned.
When she was alone in her entrance hall, she stood still, listening. Francis was obviously not there, and she couldn’t hear his sister cleaning in any of the nearby rooms.
And then she heard a child wail from the back of the house.
For just a moment, she stiffened, swept up again in that old grief, that feeling that a part of life had passed her by—the painful part, she reminded herself. She didn’t want this stab of pain any more.
But the pain receded, and she realized who the child must be—the Sanfords’ grandchild.
Why would Mr. Sanford try to keep her away? It made no sense—unless he wanted his wife free to enjoy the child without having to work, as she would if Audrey were home. Of cou
rse, Audrey would allow her some personal time. But maybe they didn’t know that.
Feeling better, she walked toward the rear hall, hand outstretched so she wouldn’t miss the doorway. As she walked quietly, she could hear the murmur of women’s voices, then the fretful child forcefully saying, “No!”
Audrey had to smile. She stepped inside the kitchen, and almost all sound ceased.
“Mrs. Blake, you’ve returned,” Mrs. Sanford said.
The child gave a squeal, as if someone had picked him up.
“I have. I would enjoy meeting your guests.”
“Of course, ma’am. May I introduce my daughter, Louisa Roebuck, and her son, Arthur?”
“How wonderful to meet you,” Audrey said. “I’m glad you were finally able to visit.”
“Th-thank you, ma’am,” the young woman said in a timid voice. “I didn’t mean to be intrudin’.”
“No intrusion at all. I’d been wondering when I would meet you. How old is your little boy?”
“Two years old, ma’am.”
Two years, Audrey thought, keeping her smile in place. That was how old her own son would have been. Every so often, she would think on the date, and wonder what he would have been doing, had he lived.
The little boy gave another squeal.
“Please, I hope you are not holding him back on my account. Does he want to explore?”
“We’re teachin’ him the dangers of the kitchen,” Mrs. Sanford said. “And he’s not payin’ much attention.”
Audrey laughed. “He sounds like any child. I heard his ‘No!’ from down the hall.” She turned toward where she thought the young woman was sitting. “I would like to express my condolences on the death of your husband, Louisa. I well understand your grief at his loss.” But did she? She hadn’t loved Martin. Perhaps this girl knew more about love than Audrey ever would, since she’d never been that close to anyone—and didn’t plan to be, ever.
She heard Robert’s wicked voice in her mind, remembered his touch, and then banished the thought quickly.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Louisa said.
She spoke so softly that even Audrey with her sensitive hearing barely heard it. “Well, I’ll leave you to your visit. Stay as long as you’d like, Louisa.” Now the Sanford family should know they had nothing to fear from her. Maybe things would be better.
“But your luncheon, Mrs. Blake,” the housekeeper began.
“You enjoy your meal together. Just send up a tray for Molly and me to her room. Is Evelyn with her?”
“I’m here, ma’am,” the maid piped up.
Audrey had more than once asked the servants to always tell her who was in the room, but she would let it go, since Louisa was visiting.
“I think Francis was going to check up on her before trimmin’ the lamps,” Evelyn continued.
Francis and Molly seemed to have quite the friendship, Audrey thought, amused. She left the kitchen and ascended to the servants’ quarters. She heard laughter, Francis’s in the corridor, as if he stood in the doorway of Molly’s room.
“Mornin’, Mrs. Blake,” he said cautiously.
“I think it might be almost afternoon, Francis,” Audrey said cheerfully. “How is Molly doing?”
“I’m well!” Molly called. “Too well to be trapped up here.”
“The doctor will be the judge. Francis, your mother will be preparing a luncheon tray for Molly and myself. Please bring it up when it’s ready.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She heard his big boots clomping down the stairs.
“So how was your expedition?” Molly asked.
Audrey briefly told her about buying a bonnet with Blythe, and a future invitation to tea.
“A success then!” Molly said with satisfaction in her voice. “I’m not surprised.”
“But then I arrived home.” She explained about Mr. Sanford’s peculiar behavior, and finding the Sanford grandchild. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “It was as if they didn’t want me to meet their daughter.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Molly insisted. “Although come to think of it, Francis hasn’t mentioned her at all.”
Audrey bit her lip, trying to hide a smile.
“Now don’t give me that look,” Molly said. “He’s a nice, friendly man who makes the hours up here not so dreary with his brief visits.”
“Then I’m glad for you. But I think, now that I’ve met and accepted Louisa, perhaps my servants will at least realize I mean them no harm. I’ve told them she could visit anytime, and now maybe they’ll believe me.” She gave Molly a smile. “Are you hungry? They’ll be bringing up a tray soon that we can share.”
“I could eat in the kitchen,” Molly grumbled. “I’ve started standing up, just to test my legs.”
“And how are they working?”
After a faint pause, she said, “Better.”
“Hmm, why do I not believe you?”
“You could at least let me begin to write for you.”
“Lord Knightsbridge has volunteered.”
“Now that’s a fiancé,” Molly said with admiration.
He was far too wonderful to her, Audrey agreed silently. And too dependable.
“I’ll let his lordship take over for me another day or two,” Molly teased.
Audrey wasn’t sure how much longer she could let that happen.
At dinner that evening, Blythe pleaded a headache and retired to her room, leaving Audrey to entertain Robert. He had Francis leave the serving dishes, then close the doors behind him.
Audrey felt a little thrill at being alone with him. “That’s not very nice of you.”
“We have much to discuss,” he insisted. “We didn’t have a chance while I was writing your letters—not that there were many.”
“Just to my father and brother,” she insisted.
“And short ones at that, although I do understand.” He paused. “You had no female friends to write to?”
“None,” she said, keeping her voice brisk and impassive. “But that is about to change. I’ve already met Mrs. Warton and Mrs. Edgeworth. Louisa Roebuck is about my age, although it might be inappropriate to cultivate her friendship. But she is a widow, too.”
“Louisa Roebuck?” he asked blankly.
“Oh, I forgot to mention it while we were writing letters.” She lowered her voice. “Or to be more accurate, I chose not to mention her until I was certain we were alone. Mr. Sanford was trying to distract me from his widowed daughter and grandson. I believe they might all have worried I would punish them for seeing her.”
“Do you think that’s what all the fuss has been about?”
Audrey hesitated. “I don’t know. Today’s attempt at distraction made some sort of sense, but causing trouble for me? I don’t know what purpose it serves.”
“To drive you away?”
“By now they must know I won’t go.”
“Unless they escalate their attacks.”
“Attacks? This is not a battleground, Robert,” she said, shaking her head.
“They’re making it into one,” he said coldly.
Just hearing his tone of voice made her not want to get on his bad side. But the fact that he was so concerned on her behalf gave her a feeling of safety she’d never known before.
It was temporary, she reminded herself sternly. She had to discover her own safety.
“You’ll be happy to know your missing ledgers turned up.”
“Where?” she demanded.
“In your study, beneath a stack of books. I know they weren’t there before.”
“How frustrating! Did you have a chance to glance through the most recent one?”
“Yes, and if memory serves, at least the last few pages seemed identical to Mr. Drayton’s copy. It may have simply been another prank to annoy you. But we’ll do a more thorough comparison the next time he visits.”
“Speaking of pranks, you said your shooting adventure went well, but did you mean it?”
> “It was fine. Mr. Sanford was knowledgeable of the grounds and the hunting. It appears it really was just a ruse to keep all of us away. I don’t like it. Why is this daughter so fragile? Did she seem morose?”
“No, simply shy, and embarrassed that her little boy was misbehaving. The next time she visits, I’ll make more of an effort to converse with her.”
“If they let you,” he mused darkly.
But she didn’t want to consider that. “I’m going to discuss in detail with Mr. Drayton the idea of having a feast for my tenants. Can you think of some suggestions?”
She could tell he didn’t like being distracted from his concerns, but soon he was just as involved in the idea as she was.
But her own concerns continued to simmer.
The next day, Audrey received an invitation for tea at Mrs. Edgeworth’s. On the following day, she and Blythe went at the appropriate hour. Blythe had been quite insistent that Audrey didn’t need Molly or Lord Knightsbridge, and Audrey told herself she was like any normal woman, attending an event with her sister.
It was actually a good feeling, and so rare. She didn’t know what was going on with Blythe’s conscience, or how long her sister intended to visit, but Audrey wasn’t questioning it.
Robert had had to go to London on business, so it had been a quiet few days without him. Blythe still seemed to think Audrey’s days could be spent in ladylike relaxation and pastimes, and Audrey was feeling a bit frustrated with her. Didn’t her sister realize that someday she’d have her own household?
Mrs. Edgeworth lived in a little stone house within the village boundaries. Audrey already knew from Mrs. Sanford that the woman was a widow who considered herself one of the village matriarchs. She was stern but fair, and tireless in her volunteer work. She sounded like the perfect person for Audrey to get to know. There were four other ladies in attendance: Mrs. Warton, the vicar’s middle-aged wife; her daughter, Miss Warton, newly engaged, whose voice rang with happiness that still sounded surprised about her good fortune; Lady Flitcroft, the wife of a local baronet, who was so quiet Audrey often forgot she was in the room; and Miss Yardley, a young friend of Miss Warton’s, who was mostly focused on her coming-out next Season in London.
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